Lingering Grasp
by misscam
Summary: Another death brings out the avenger in Alex and Mick... But can Mick redeem himself if he can't even forgive himself? And will Frank finally find some peace?
1. Part One

Lingering Grasp  
By Camilla Sandman& Suz  
- a sequel to "Barely Hanging On"

Disclaimer: Sometimes you get an idea and just run with it. Bugger the consequences. It's just a feeling inside that you get. It niggles away at you and you think stuff it all.  
Oh, by the way we don't own them

Major angst, depression, guilt trips, some deaths and some implications of rape. All in all, it's not the best days the Rats have had.

Author's Notes (Cam): Okay, I considered waiting a while before starting a sequel, but.. Meh. Patience is for sheep.

Author's Notes (Suz): - Ice skating is fun, except for when the tounge cuts into your foot and then you can't wear your favourite shoes to go out in. Then you can't dance because you've got crap shoes on. But on the upside Frost Bites is an awesome Nite Club. they have alcoholic slurpee's!

Thanks to Nikki for "fudged off". 

To Sarah – helping me write better and because you know, I get to see Mick/Alex stuff!

II

There was no more sun. Sure, there was the ball of gas and warmth on the sky, but there was no more sun. So, with no sun, it was always night. Always dark.

The stars were gone too. Sure, there was, there were distant dead suns on the sky, but there were no more stars. So, with no stars, the night was darker than ever.

But the moon was still there, pale and sorrowful and the only light it had to give were so weak it only made the darkness more depressing.

Frank Holloway knew he was drunk, and that all the morose thoughts came from that, but it didn't make them less valid. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so philosophical. Probably the last time he'd been drunk.

After he'd learned of Rachel's death, he'd avoided getting drunk. There was no refuge to be found in alcohol, rather insistent memories.

But now he was back, and the memories came anyway, so he figured, stuff it. He might as well drink.

He threw a glance over at his drinking partner, who looked equally morose. He'd invited her over to ask a particular question, but whenever he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He feared the answer more than anything else.

Still... He had to know.

"Helen?" Damn, he almost sounded sober. More beer was needed.

"Mmm..."

"Did she..." he had to pause for a second, his chest suddenly constricted with pain. "Did she talk about me... After I left?"

More beer was definitely needed. His mouth felt dry, and his mind was as clear as glass.

Helen turned to look at him, her eyes deep and sad.

"Frank... You broke her heart."

And suddenly he wished he'd never asked

II

Music drummed around her, and colours swirled as hundreds of people were pressed together on the dance floor. Laughter barely penetrated the music, but to Sophie, it just sounded hollow

She had killed a man.

They had asked her gently about it, and called it "self defence". But she remembered the look Mick had sent her. He had known.

She had killed a man.

His brother had killed her father. Strangely enough, Jack suddenly seemed much more of a father to her after he was dead. Had she never quite forgiven him for all those years he hadn't been there?

And now she missed him, she missed him so hard pulling the trigger had been easy. In that split second he had come after her, she had decided to shoot him in the head rather than the leg.

She had killed a man.

And Jack wasn't here. Suddenly, she could stand it no longer, and made a run from for the door. Halfway there a body came in the way and she was sent spinning to the floor.

"Sorry," a deep, masculine voice muttered against her ear and strong arms helped her up. She let herself be guided through the masses.

"You look like you need a friend?"

She look up at him, and figured, bugger it. She did.

She didn't see the terrified look on the face of the girl next to her, nor did she pay attention to that gut feeling telling her to run as fast as she could. All she could feel was the empty hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be.

When it stopped beating an hour later, it was almost a relief.

II

Alex lay awake and listened to the quiet breathing of her partner. She could barely make out his features in the dark, but she could envision them clearly. His mouth would probably be slightly open, almost like an invitation to a kiss. She smiled slightly, they had certainly done enough of that.

But her smile quickly faded. They were going back tomorrow, back to duty. Back to the station, where everyone would talk of Jack. Or even worse, no one would mention him at all.

"Alex?"

Mick's soft voice made her jump, and she felt his arm reach out to touch hers. 

"Yeah?"

"Us.. I mean, when we come back.. We haven't really talked about it."

"I don't know, Michael," she answered honestly, but even as she said it, she edged closer so their foreheads touched. She should walk away, she should end it, hell, she should never have walked into his apartment that night after the funeral in the first place.

If Jack hadn't died.. Mick felt her body tense somewhat, and he knew she was thinking about Jack again. He desperately wanted to blurt out all those questions burning on his lips, but the words died in his throat.

_What am I to you? Did you love Jack? Can you forgive me?_

He wanted to ask her that more than anything, to tell her it was him Jack had been protecting, that he was supposed to have been there when Rachel died... That sometimes he felt like he couldn't breathe when he thought about it.

Instead, he leaned into the embrace and just held her, while the ball of gas and warmth began to rise over the horizon.

II

The dark blonde hair floated around her as a halo, moving slightly with the waves. She was naked, and at first it would seem like she was skinny dipping, floating peacefully.

Then, a wave would wash over her and she would roll slowly over, revealing the gaping wound at the back of her head. 

But her face was so peaceful.

"VKG Sydney Water Police to Nemesis. Have you found the body yet?"

"…"

"Are you there, Nemesis?"

"Yes.. It's.. It's.. Sophie."

"Say again, Nemesis."

"It's Sophie."

II

Mick walked into the Station and knew instantly something was wrong. It wasn't so much the glances thrown his way as the fact that no one was looking his way at all. Not even Donna looked up, and Alex was nowhere to be seen. She'd only been a few minutes ahead of him, as they had agreed not to raise suspicion.

He rather thought it was a lost battle already.

He was about to ask what was going on, when the door opened quietly behind him and Alex walked in. She looked up at him as he turned around, and his heart leaped.

She looked like hell, almost as bad as she had when the Nemesis had brought in Jack. And even before she said something, he knew who it was.

"Sophie," she gulped, "They… They found her this morning."

More than anything, he wanted to reach out and hug her, but he could suddenly feel the eyes of Emma on him. She came walking in along side Tommy, both looking as horrible as Alex.

"How?"

"Blow to the head," Tommy replied in a tired voice, briefly closing his eyes.

"She had been raped." It was Alex who spoke, but it didn't sound like her voice.

"We're waiting on forensic on that," Tommy said, but he didn't deny her words. Behind them, Mick could see the body being carried away. He tried to swallow, but the lump in his throat grew and grew no matter how much he swallowed.

_This is your fault, you know, _a very cool and logical voice in his head stated.

"No, it's not," he wanted to shout, but the words didn't come.

_See?_ The voice said, somewhat satisfied. He tried pushing it forcefully away, but it only seemed to find it amusing.

_Mick Reilly, you can't push me away. I am you._

"Mick?" His vision stabilised and fell on Alex, and their eyes locked. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but somewhere beyond the pain and grief an ice-cold anger had appeared.

He could feel his own anger rising with hers, but he was no longer sure who it was directed at. Himself? The prick that had killed Sophie?

_You'll both pay_ the voice stated confidently, and he knew it to be true.

II

It was a very grim Chief Inspector Holloway who faced his small team of detectives a few hours later. Even as he entered, the irony hit him. Rachel would have been laughing her ass off had she seen him in this uniform. He could almost hear her, laughing madly and whispering "priceless" in a dark corner of his mind.

Bloody Jeff for going along with it, even if it was merely on a temporary basis. And bloody himself for even suggesting it to Helen, as a joke no less. 

"Priceless," he muttered, then took a deep breath and faced the crowd.

"We have two victims. Sophie..." he watched a range of emotions flicker over the faces before him, "and a girl named Pauline Jackson, found two days ago. They're both the same age, both killed with a heavy blow to the head and both raped."

He threw a quick glance at Alex, who stood still as a statue in the other side of the room as Mick. Interestingly enough, Emma and George were standing so close there wasn't a flicker of light in between them. Frank suddenly found himself wondering if Jeff had ever observed him and Rachel like that, thinking that maybe...

"Pauline Jackson was last seen at The Fudged Off, a new nightclub. I want to know if Sophie was there, who she talked to, and who she left with. George, I know you're only here temporary, but I want you on this one with Tommy," Frank plunged on, "I know this is a personal loss to all of you..." His voice finally faltered. He didn't even know Sophie, he shouldn't be... Grieving?

_Ah, but you're not grieving for her are you?_

He ignored his mind, and concentrated on the people standing in the room with him.

"Alex, Mick, I want you t on that speed boat incident this morning. That's all."

"Frank?" Mick cut in, "Speed boat incident? I want..."

"Reilly, you and Alex are too close to Jack and Sophie. I can't let you near this case," Frank explained, even knowing he would have totally ignored anyone telling him to do something similar. He half expected the pair to jump up in outrage, but they remained strangely still. Uh oh. He knew that look.

"Understood?"

"Yeah," Mick muttered distantly, but the glace he exchanged with Alex spoke another story. Those two were not going to listen.

Mick kept his glance at Alex even after she had looked away. The look on her face was triggering another memory, another showdown. Jack Christey hunting down Rachel's killer.

A shudder went down his spine.

_You don't belong here. You're no copper_

He walked slowly out with the others, not noticing the look Frank was sending him.

II

Emma trailed George and Tommy out the door and willed them silently to slow down, she wanted to be near someone. It was like a living hell right now. She realised that this was what life as a copper was like… No longer was she just a diver, she knew too much now, she'd seen too much death and pain and…

"Em…" George turned around and smiled at her. She tried smiling back but it just didn't happen. Nothing happened she could only look blankly at him, past him out to the harbour where they found… Where they found everyone.

Suddenly she collapsed into a heap, a mess, tears just streamed down her face without control. They stepped toward her, she reached up to George and he took her in his arms and held her while she shook uncontrollably.

George spoke gently into her neck as they stood together. Soon she stopped shaking and just held him as they swayed slightly, soothingly.

"I'm sorry," she too spoke into his neck. His arms wrapped around her made her feel safe. Safe from everything that could harm her and when he went to pull away she resisted.

"No, please… just stay a little while."

He kissed her neck and again tried pulling away… but failed.

"I have to, I don't want to…" He looked down at her. God, she was so beautiful. "I'll come back." She nodded and smiled a little. Her glance fell to Tommy who was standing uncomfortably a few feet away.

"Woods, we'll be fine." He took a step and held her hand tightly.

Slowly they both let go and walked away.

II

It was quiet in the D's office for the longest time. Tommy and George were out, and Alex and Mick sat quietly by their desks, doing paperwork. At least that was what they were doing every time Frank looked in.

But as soon as he left, an intense whispered conversation would take place.

"I have experience with undercover work!" Alex insisted, but Mick was shaking his head.

"I'm not letting you go there alone!"

"I can protect myself."

"So could.." Mick managed to stop himself before saying 'Rachel'. "He could attack you from behind. No way. I'm sticking on you like glue."

A very inappropriate image entered his mind, and it took him a few seconds to push the image away. If Alex had noticed, she made no sign of it.

"Fine," she snapped, "But you keep your distance and you will do what I say."

"Yeah, yeah..." he trailed off as Frank stuck his head in once again.

Frank looked at the two, seemingly working intensely on paperwork. A little too intensely. Paperwork was so boring it usually made you jump at any distraction from it, like, say, your boss entering. Those two were definitely up to something. 

And the detective in him was itching to find out what. It had to be something to do with Sophie's death; otherwise they would have been in his office demanding to be put on the case. As he looked at them sitting at the desks he and Rachel once had sat at, he had to grab the wall for support. Suddenly it wasn't Mick and Alex sitting there, but him and Rachel, one late night.

"_I think I might head home too."_

"You be alright? You know, Doug thinks he's a bit comical, but there is some truth in what he says."

"What, that she's too tall for you?"

"You know what I mean."

She leaned forward over the desk.

"You offering protection Frank?"

"If you want it."

Closing his eyes, Frank had to take a deep breath. It had been so real, so real for a brief second he had thought he was really back there, that her death had been a bad dream, a nightmare.

But when he opened his eyes again, Alex and Mick were sitting there, throwing a worried glance his way. He somehow managed to stagger into Jeff's… his office now, where Helen was waiting for him.

"Frank? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He didn't reply, dropping onto his chair in a very un-inspectorish and very Frankish way.

"How's Jeff?"

"Biting nails by the phone, waiting for you to mess up his station," Helen replied. "I heard about Sophie."

"Yeah," Frank muttered. "I have Tommy and George on it." He closed his eyes, looking over at the fish tank where Jeff's fish swam around happily. "I didn't know the girl, but... It's obviously everyone here liked her. If she was truly Jack's daughter, I can't understand why."

He threw a look at Helen.

"Sorry, bad joke, I didn't..."

"Don't worry about it, Frank." God, she sounded just like Rachel it unnerved him. Was he just going mad, or had everyone here suddenly acquired Goldstein characteristics?

"I miss her, Helen."

"Me too."

"I always thought I would someday see Rachel on a desk like this," he remarked. "It's like... I'm doing this because she didn't get to, you know?"

"Frank?" Tommy broke in, entering with George in tow. "I think we have a suspect.."

Helen watched Frank snap to attention, looking every bit the essence of commanding presence. She had to suppress a sad smile.

Rachel would have been proud. After she had stopped laughing hysterically.

II

One by one the stars would appear on the sky, twinkling at the Earth with their ancient light, travelled so long and far only to be appreciated by a few.

Alex had no time to glance at them as she entered the crowded The Fudged Off. You couldn't tell by the people there that two girls had disappeared from this bar. Or maybe you could. Danger was an attraction.

A few hands brushed against her body as she moved through the crowd, but she ignored them. Aiming for the bar, she immediately spotted Mick. He was leaning against a wall nonchalantly, radiating... Sexuality?

She didn't seem to be the only one noticing his attraction. Several young girls were circling around him and she felt an illogical flash of jealousy. 

She closed her eyes, and to her surprise, it was Emma's voice that came to her.

"_So you finally decided you wanted him."_

"Hey Em. I guess you and I should have a talk."

The anger behind Emma's eyes in that hospital corridor, the sadness… and most of all the hurt.

"He was only with me to get at you. We both knew it so why didn't you…"

"I didn't know Em."

"Didn't know what Alex. Is it that hard for you to work out your feelings? God…"

"Emma, I know-"

"You know nothing"

"I know that you fell for him, his charms, his looks. Who wouldn't? I was just scared that's all. I couldn't make up my mind."

"I hate you both, you've made me a pawn in your little games."

"Don't…"

"Oh, bugger off!"

One day, they'd repair the damage that had been done. One day… stupid bloody "one days" soon. It would be soon. They'd do it soon…

Opening her eyes again, she felt Mick look at her. She purposely ignored his glance, moving onto the dance floor and the mass of bodies. She noticed what had to be a bouncer or the owner standing at the edge of the dance floor.

But Jan Kein, owner of The Fudged Off wasn't looking at her, but rather at the young brunette approaching Mick with a look of hope and total adoration on he face.

"I'm Chloe…" the girl smiled at Mick. He held out his hands apologetically.

"Sorry girl, I'm taken."

And with that he moved onto the dance floor, brushing past Alex and sending her a look that made young Chloe heartbroken. He had looked so hot and sexy and Chloe had fallen in love within seconds. Not for the first time.. But it was the last time.

Jan smiled, and walked over.

"You look like you could need a friend," he smiled, and she looked tear-eyed up at him.

II

The moon continued her slow march across the sky, not even stopping to mourn the death of another girl. The moon was after all, just a dead rock in space, no matter what romantic fantasies the people of Earth associated with it.

Frank Holloway was looking up at it, lying quietly on the same grassy hill he and Rachel once had spent an evening at, discussing ants and Robert Redford.

Emma Woods too, was staring rather absentmindedly at it, sitting in her bed. Behind her George slept peacefully.

Tommy Tavita was laughing, accepting yet another beer from Gavin Sykes as the two reminisced about the past and who was the hottest chick in the Water Police ever.

Helen Blakemore had given up on sleeping for the night, and was slowly flickering through the diary of Rachel Goldstein and wondering if she should or shouldn't pass it on to someone who might need it more.

Jan Kein was returning to his nightclub in time to make sure it was properly closed for the night, feeling content and utterly disgusted with himself at the same time.

Alex St. Clare was slamming the car door behind her with her foot, her hands busy wandering over Mick Reilly's chest as they were stumbling towards his house.

And in Sydney Harbour, young Chloe was sleeping peacefully, never again to see a sunrise.

II

Mick knew a storm was coming the minute he walked into the station that morning. Frank Holloway was hovering by the reception desk, and the man looked angrier than Mick had ever seen him.

"Michael Reilly, my office, now!"

And without looking, Frank marched up the stairs.

"Cripes, you've done it now," Donna whispered. "They found another body in the Harbour and..."  
**  
**"Reilly!" Frank snapped, stopping at the top of the stairs and noticing Mick wasn't following.

Donna closed her mouth as Mick began ascending the stairs.

_Well, well, well. Too busy screwing your partner to notice a murder. Spectacular performance, detective Reilly._

And for once, Mick didn't bother arguing with his mind.****

"Sit down," Frank ordered as they entered the office. "Now, do you have any idea why witnesses saw you and a certain blonde at The Fudged Off last night?"

Christ, the man was sounding like Jeff Hawker.

"No, wait, don't tell me. Because if you tell me, I would have to suspend you both." Frank sighed. "Do you want to screw up your career entirely?"

_Yes, why not? It would have been if Jack hadn't kicked the bucket for you, mate_ the cynical voice whispered.

"Michael... Take some time off. Go sailing, go fishing, go walkabout, go screw your partner, but don't go near this case." Frank paused, trying to see if he was getting through. The blank stare he got in return didn't look promising. 

Damned if he was going to let more people die on this station.

Mick was silent for a long time.

"Would you have stayed away if it had been David who was killed?"

Frank felt like he was kicked in the gut. He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out.

"I didn't think so," Mick said coolly and got up. He had to fight the urge to kick himself. God knows Alex and Rachel would have if they had heard him. Frank wasn't the enemy.

_No, you are. What are you becoming, Michael Reilly?_

And what scared him more than anything, was that he didn't know.


	2. Part Two

Part Two

Slamming the door behind him, Mick stepped out of the station and was greeted by a strong gush of wind. It caught his tie, whipping it around, trying to rip it off him.

He didn't bother straightening it out

Rachel, Jack and whoever they had found in the Harbour this morning.. How many more would die because he wasn't paying attention?

God, what a mess. Whatever he did, he seemed to screw up things even worse.

"Mick."

He glanced up to see Alex standing a few feet away.

"Frank called," she said, and he couldn't read her face. Last night, for the briefest second, he thought he'd glanced into her soul. Now she seemed more distant than ever.

Last night.. Last night had been wonderful, pretending like they had met for the first time, that there wasn't a trail of blood in their wake.

And now last night had a bitter taste in his mouth.

"They found another body."

"Yeah."

Neither spoke, as the wind dashed around them, constantly changing direction. The sea was at an uproar, waves trashing against the shore.

"Who was she?" Alex finally asked.

"Dunno."

"I'm going back there tonight."

"It could be bloody dangerous, Alex."

"You have a better idea?"

"No," he admitted. "But it shouldn't be you going."

"I owe it to Jack."

"No. I owe it." At the tone of his voice, she looked up. There was something strained in it, and even as she looked he seemed to be fighting some inner war.

"It's my fault," he suddenly whispered.

"Mick..."

"No. It is. When Rachel was killed, I was supposed to be there. They called me, but... My cell phone was turned off. And Jack... Jack was covering for me. I knew it was Agi. It would have ruined my career, so he... he..." Mick finished off feebly. For a brief second he felt relieved beyond reason, finally he had said it. Then he glanced over at Alex.

She stood completely still, her face not radiating any emotion at all. Anger he could have dealt with. Anything but this cold, even face.

"Get the hell away from me, Michael," she said, her voice free of any emotion at all. It was nothing but clear, no anger, no resentment, and no trace of warmth.

"Alex…" He lifted a hand to reach out and touch her, but she stepped away.

"Don't touch me." Still that even, crystal clear voice that cut into his heart like glass.

_This is how Rachel Goldstein felt _the voice said evenly.

_Are you done punishing yourself?_ his heart whispered.

_No._He turned and walked away slowly, hoping beyond hope that she would call out after him.

She didn't.

II

Night fell, and the city light up. People hurried through the light rain, some going home, some going anywhere but home.

And at The Fudged Off, it was business like any other night.

The music was drumming away as Alex entered, drowning out any other sound. She plastered on a smile as she entered, trying to look upbeat and ready for a party.

She was failing miserably.

_Damn you, damn you, damn you Michael Reilly!_

A couple of guys were smiling at her, but her own smile faltered and she had to take a deep breath not to run out. Why the hell had she come here?

_We're finding Sophie's killer_ her mind reminded her. That's what Jack would have been doing. Ignoring all superiors and plunging ahead. Just as he had done when he had gone after Agi. Protecting bloody Mick.

"You look like you could need a friend," a deep voice said by her ear, and she glanced up at a tall, heavily built man. He was flashing a perfect smile, and his deep green eyes were reflecting that smile. He looked oddly familiar.

"Bad day?" he continued. She nodded, her mind racing. Where had she seen him before?

"Need some comfort?" the man smiled. "I'm Jan. I own this place."

II

Mick fell onto his couch, not even bothering to take his jacket off. He'd managed to stuff up the only good thing in his life, bloody fucking great. Not that he could blame her. He didn't deserve her.

He'd ruined it all. His life, his career, his relationship… relationships. He should just pack up and get the hell out of town before anyone else got hurt.

_Coward,_ his mind whispered.

"Shut up!" he hissed, "Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" Reaching out for the nearest object, his hands closed on a beer mug and he threw it at the wall with all the strength he could muster.

It shattered into a thousand pieces.

Breathing hard, he stared at his hands where blood from small cuts began to drip. How fitting. A few drops fell to the carpet, staining, but he didn't care.

He fell back on the couch, all strength suddenly leaving his limps. He felt tired, so very tired, and more than anything he wanted to rest with Alex in his arms, feeling her hair tickle his skin. Like they had done on the Footloose.

_Go to her then, you idiot _

_Shut up! _his guilty voice answered.

_You know where she is_

You know she don't want you

Go

Stay

II

A few drinks later, Alex St. Clare found herself being guided into Jan's second floor office. She felt strangely light-headed, and to her surprise, she seemed to be giggling.

"See, I told you I would make you feel better."

She almost fell as she stumbled into his office, the door closing behind them sounding strangely like a tomb being closed. Her instincts suddenly screamed at her. The door was soundproof.

_Shit_ her mind said, but even that felt distant. Had he put something in her drink?

"How about you make me feel better?" his voice whispered as his hands closed around her waist and began lifting her shirt.

"No..."

"You tease me. I know you want it." His voice had taken on a harder edge now, and she opened her purse to reach for her gun. She never got that far.

A powerful arm caught her hand, even as the punch came at her. She heard the sickening sound of flesh being hit before the pain kicked in with such force she literally saw stars.

She fell backwards, her arm still locked, fingers digging into her soft underarm. She kicked out blindly, hitting something, but her attacker didn't budge.

The floor kicked the breath out of her, and before she could even regain it, he was over her. Her arms were locked to her side as he pressed her down, and a hand grabbed her hair painfully hard.

"Bitch!" he spat at her, his other hand wandering inside her shirt.

She twisted violently under him, finally able to bring up a knee and force into his crotch. He groaned, letting go for just a second.

It was all she needed. Twisting free, she lunged for her gun. Her fingers closed on it just as he grabbed hold of her feet, pulling her back. She kicked back with her heel even as she span around and fired.

He groaned again, but before she could fire again his fingers closed around hers and the gun was wrestled from her.

A powerful knee locked her hands and she wanted to scream as his hand wandered down, tearing off her skirt. A hand closed over her mouth, and she bit him. He cursed, and another slap came at her.

Her cheeks burned, and she could taste blood on her lips. He was ripping at her shirt now, and she could feel her body steel itself for what had to be coming.

A funny expression suddenly came over his face, and he made a sound much like a balloon when the air comes out of it. Then he toppled over, and she saw Mick standing behind, holding his gun.

"Mick!" To her horror, she felt tears form in her eyes. She twisted away from the unconscious Jan, seeing the wound where Mick had hit him over the head.

"Are you okay?" Mick breathed, dropping his gun to the floor. She nodded, but even as she did, her body began to shake uncontrollably. He immediately took his jacket off, wrapping her in it.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her hair, before taking his cell and calling the station. She watched him passively, tears running down her cheeks but no sound escaping her.

Revenge was accomplished.

Sophie was gone. Jack was gone.

And she had never felt so empty in her life.

II

The night was about to end as the moon began to fade and the stars would soon be slowly fading as the sky turned from black into the illusion of being blue. But beyond the blue, there would still be the real, dark sky.

And eventually, morning would come, but that was still hours away.

Alex finally emerged from the Water Police HQ, taking in the fresh air of the sea in deep breaths. She felt drained, having been first medically examined, then question, and finally getting a talk from Frank, who hadn't exactly been happy with her.

And Mick had been hovering in the background, never more than a few feet away, but never really reaching out.

As she walked onto the pier to watch the rising of the sun, she heard the boat come in

Emma took a deep breath as she stepped off the Harpy. Her eye caught sight of Alex standing on the pier alone. It would be a nice gesture to see how she is.

Nice gesture, who was she kidding? She wanted to make peace. To get forgiveness for horrible things she'd said that day in the hospital. That wasn't really her. It wasn't.

_Sure it wasn't Emma, don't be so damn naïve. _She cursed the voice in her head and dumped her bag on the wharf and slowly walked over to Alex.

"I'm sorry." She still stood about 10 metres away. Alex looked up at her briefly. "I didn't mean those things." She took another step closer and this time when Alex looked up she held the gaze.

"I know…" Alex's voice was soft and lost in the light breeze. "It's okay." And she smiled across at Emma, who was being beckoned by George not far away.

Emma took several more steps toward her and smiled back.

"I hope you can be happy. I really do." And the honest smile said it all. She really meant it. Even if Mick still plagued the back of her mind she was able to wish them both well. Which told Alex that Emma was the bigger person, God knows that she couldn't do the same.

The smile faded as she watched Emma jog toward George and she was lost again by the harbour.

A few minutes later, she heard the faint cracking of an opening door, and knew it to be Mick. But he didn't join her on the pier. Instead he just stood there, watching her intently.

Mick didn't look up a few minutes later when Frank came walking out as well.

"Jan has confessed," Frank said lightly, "No thanks to you and your partners foolish scheme. Tommy and George were onto him already. She could have been killed, mate."

"I know."

"Do you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mick shot back.

"Who were you avenging? Sophie? Or Jack?"

"Jack was protecting me. I knew about Agi," Mick said dully, looking away from where Alex was standing and down at his shoes.

"What do you want to hear, Reilly? You screwed up. You're god damn lucky IA hasn't pursued this. That doesn't make you a killer. Agi pulled that trigger, and Jack chose to cover your ass. Your screw-up, yes, but your fault? No," Frank said forcefully. "Your bloody need to punish yourself almost cost you another partner. So get over yourself Michael Reilly. Face the ghosts at night, not at daytime."

Mick stood perfectly still for a few seconds, his mind racing. Finally he looked up.

"You're definitely the next Jeff Hawker."

"Hah!" Frank replied, but his face softened. "Look, mate...It's not like I haven't been there."

They stood silent a while, Mick's glance wandering to the end of the pier where Alex stood again.

"Go to her," Frank urged quietly.

"She doesn't want me."

"You're an idiot," Frank declared, making Mick look up in astonishment.

"You're not responsible for Jack's death, just as you weren't responsible for Rachel's. So bloody well stop feeling sorry for yourself already and go kiss her. She needs you."

"I'm afraid she would have chosen Jack over me."

Frank smiled briefly. "You wouldn't be the first that happened to."

"Rachel?"

"Yeah."

"But she didn't," Mick said quietly. "Jack.. He told one drunken night what her last words had been."

Frank tried to breathe and found he couldn't. A part of him screamed not to listen, but he had to. Had to know.

"She said your name," Mick finished. "Jack never got over it, not really."

"My name?" It was barely audible at all, and he wasn't even sure Mick had heard.

"Jack had her diary. Maybe Sophie…" Mick shrugged, his gaze moving once again to the pier where Alex stood, her shoulders slumped and her whole body language radiating grief. He couldn't help himself, he began walking towards her even before realising he'd decided to.

She didn't look up as he approached, desperately trying to maintain some kind of composure. He stopped a few feet away, not really looking at her at all.

"Want a ride home?" he asked casually, his heart racing. If she said no.. She was silent so long he had almost began to walk away.

"Yeah," she whispered.

II

"Beer?" George placed his hand gently on the back of her neck as she nodded. "Tommy, Gavin and everyone are already there." They started walking slowly and her hand slipped into his and they fell into step.

She stopped suddenly and they faced one another.

"Is this a good idea?" He looked slightly confused. "Us. This"

He shrugged.

"Probably not, but…" he shrugged again. "Let's just see huh?" He smiled.

Emma bit her lip as she looked up at him. His smile, ohhh… It wasn't a good idea, but then what was? It was better than being miserable by herself. And he could keep her safe for a while.

A memory of her and Mick slipped into her mind.

"_So, if we can be friends, that'd be good and if we can't, then, we'll have to find another way to work together."_

Peace had been made with Alex… but for Mick it was going to be a little – hell, a lot - harder. It'd happen… one day…

She slid her arm around George's waist, and for now decided to be happy.

II

When Helen walked into Jeff's - Frank's - office a little time later, he looked so lost in thought she had to knock three times.

"Helen.."

"You okay, Frank?"

"Yeah.."

"Where is everyone?"

"Probably getting pissed. It's been a long night," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "I could use a good stiff drink myself. Did Hawker hide any booze in this office at all?"

"Ask him yourself. He's here."

"Oh bugger," Frank muttered, glancing at the fish tank. No, they were all still alive, thank God. He didn't dare consider the consequences of killing one of Jeff's fish. They were likely to be.. Nasty

"I heard that, Holloway," Jeff declared, entering. He was still dragging his one leg, but the cane was gone. He immediately glanced over at the fish tank – no, they were all alive still.

And Frank Holloway was looking comfortable in his chair. In a very strange and twisted way, it seemed.. Fitting.

II

Mick hadn't been at Alex's place in ages. It looked pretty much the same, the TV Week was still old and some of the dishes in the sink look like they were hosting new life forms. It almost looked worse than his place, except he had many more empty bottles scattered around.

"I don't have much food…"

"We could order a pizza," he suggested.

"Yeah."

But neither moved towards the phone. It suddenly seemed so hard to reach out, to cross the distance.

"I need a shower," Alex suddenly said, shivering as she said it. The memory Jan's hands on her body suddenly came to her, and she had to fight an urge to throw up. Without looking at Mick, she practically ran to the bathroom.

Taking several deep breaths, she tore her clothes off and turned the water on as hot as she could. She gasped as she stepped into the running water, washing away the pain, the guilt, and the blood. Except it wouldn't really, but she could pretend.

"Alex..."

Oh God, she hated him for the soft way he would say her name.

"I'm so sorry."

It would have been so easy to push him away, so easy to tell him she blamed him and would never forgive him, so easy to just hate him. So easy, and yet so hard.

"I know," she whispered, turning around to look at him. He was standing in the doorway, his eyes downcast and whole manner so different from the cheerful and smiling guy she had met so long ago.

There is darkness even in the sunshine.

"I need..." she bit her lip. "I need... Someone to wash my back." Holding out the soap, she waited until he finally looked up. For the longest time he just looked at her, then finally, he took the soap.

Without bothering to get undressed, he stepped into the shower. Pulling him to her, their mouths locked in a fiery kiss and the water quickly soaked him. He couldn't care less, and they were discarded into a pile on the floor soon enough.

"You're so beautiful, Alex," he muttered, letting a finger trace her jaw line.

"You're not so bad yourself, Michael Reilly," she replied, pushing away the memory of Jan. He couldn't harm her. And maybe Sophie and Jack could finally rest. Maybe.

_It's you who won't let them rest_ her mind whispered. _Letting them go is not betraying them._

_Yes, yes it is!_ She screamed back silently, the ball of grief and guilt and pain in her chest expanding painfully. She clung to Mick, digging her fingernails into his back as he lifted her up. Throwing her head back, she let all the emotions wash over her, grief, anger, hurt, guilt and desire until she felt so devastated it was almost good and she could finally let go..

And then there was only desire, and a warm feeling in her chest she'd thought she'd never feel again. Opening her eyes, she focused on Mick's face.

_I'll never let you down,_ Mick vowed silently. _Somehow, I'll make it all right._

We'll see about that his guilt answered, almost snickering.

But he didn't listen, as he let his own tears mix with Alex's and be washed away.

The soap fell unnoticed to the floor.

II

There was hardly anything left of the night as Frank staggered into his house. He was supposed to be at the Station in a few hours, but he suspected a lot of people would be somewhat late. He had almost stopped by the Cutter bar, but the laughter from inside had stopped him dead in his tracks.

Too many memories. And he was too tired.

He had however, observed George and Emma sneak out for a little tongue wrestling. It seemed most of the people at the Station wee getting some these days. Did the Chief Inspector get any sex at all? Maybe that was why Jeff had been so cranky all the time.

He kept pondering over that, not really because it interested him, but because it kept him from thinking about what Mick had said.

"_She said your name."_

He had to fight an urge to hit his head on the table. He had accepted the fact that Rachel was gone and he would never know. He really had.

"_She said your name."_

Didn't mean anything. Jack could have heard wrong. She had probably been delirious with pain, and.. He winced, an echo of the pain Rachel must have felt throbbing through his body."_She said your name."_

"Frank?"

He jumped, for the briefest second thinking it was her, it was Rachel.. Then he saw Helen's worried face.

"The door was opened," she explained, "I knocked but.."

When he just continued to stare at her, she reached into her handbag and handed him a book.

"I think you need to read it," she said steadily. He threw a glance at the book, than opened a random page and froze.

Rachel's handwriting.

"She kept a diary," Helen muttered when he looked up confused at her. After a few seconds something in his face seemed to melt.

"Thank you."

"See ya, Frank," she said softly, closing the door quietly behind her as she walked out. Frank sat in the silence for the longest time, just staring at the words, afraid of letting them become sentences. Afraid of what they would spell out.

As long as he didn't know, he could at least hope.

Finally, with a trembling hand, he flipped the book to the beginning and read.

He read and read, not even noticing the tears in his eyes as he went along. They were all there, all the things Rachel had felt, all the things they had experienced, and all the secrets she had kept from him.

It made him feel close to her, almost as if she was sitting on the couch and whispering all these things in his ear.

And finally, there it was. After two pages of cursing him for being such a stubborn idiot of a man, five little words stared up at him.

_I think I love him._

The book fell from his hands, and he fell back against the cushions. Terrible, terrible relief and terrible, terrible grief flooded through him, almost worse than when Helen had called and told him. It felt like yesterday and a century ago at once.

"Will you let me go now?" Rachel whispered softly in his ear.

"Never," he replied, keeping his stare on the ceiling. After a few seconds he could feel his bones slowly turn to ice.

Rachel.

He turned very, very slowly, but of course, the seat next to him was empty. But it felt warm to touch, almost as if someone had been sitting there.

"Rachel?" he whispered. "Rachel? Rachel!"

The darkness gave no answers.

Morning finally broke through, and the sun rose, but the darkness stayed.

FIN


End file.
